


Gallery

by Bedelia_Gibson



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Dark Bedelia, F/F, F/M, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-20
Updated: 2016-08-24
Packaged: 2018-05-15 05:12:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5772553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bedelia_Gibson/pseuds/Bedelia_Gibson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time Bedelia Du Maurier killed someone she was barely eighteen. If this were to happen again, she would need to learn to be more careful.</p><p>Small snippets of Bedelia's first and how she became the murderous woman we all love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Eighteen

**Author's Note:**

> I really wanted to explore Bedelia before Hannibal. I don't think she just became the murderess goddess she is today because of Hannibal. 
> 
> Inspired by http://believermulder.tumblr.com/post/129583746393/michelle-k-what-i-am-not-insp

I am not  
a puzzle piece  
created to complete  
him.  
I am  
the finished product.  
I am my own  
piece of art.  
I am  
the fucking gallery.  
― Michelle K.

The first time Bedelia Du Maurier killed someone she was barely eighteen. While on a date with a professor from the chemistry department, Dr. Tanner ignored Bedelia’s request to end the evening and instead drove her to his cabin north of town. 

When Bedelia recalls this evening, she likes to pretend she had more control over what transpired. She ignores memories of his unwanted wondrous hands and thinks about the Zinfandel he poured, her first taste of good, red wine. She can barely recall specific details that led up to the stabbing, but never will forget the feeling as he took his last breath, a high unmatched by a lover since.

When Bedelia returned to her dorm that night, she invited a boy from down the hall into her room and replayed the last few hours as the taller sophomore roughly moved on top of her. 

Bedelia was still surprised when Dr. Tanner did not show up for her Monday morning lecture. She waited in her seat, silently listening to speculation on the no-show professor. She tried to hide her smirk as classmates make joke about him dying over the weekend.

Rumors started flying fast once they found the body Tuesday evening. While Bedelia didn’t dare assume she was the first student Tanner lied to his wife about, she was offended by the shear quantity of names she heard confirmed as she listened for her own.

Wednesday class was cancelled, but by the time they regroup on Friday for a smaller study group, more details came to life. One TA lets slip that he heard Tanner was stabbed 10 times, four more than Bedelia personally remembers. A former student is rumored to be a main suspect after a roommate outed her affair with Tanner along with her history of mental illness. 

Bedelia still assumed a police officer would appear at her dorm sooner or later. While she knew to hide the knife and clean up any real trace of her being in the cabin, she still drove his car back to town and would have thought at least one person would have remembered them out together. Maybe his ability to sneak around from his wife was more developed than Bedelia originally assumed.

Bedelia had a whole story worked out for the inevitable cop. Tears as she would tell him how Tanner blackmailed her into a date, a small, terrified voice as she detailed how he attacked her in his cabin. She only used the knife as self-defense then panicked. Half-truths were always safe. It wasn’t perfect, but she knew with her grandfather’s lawyers and her tears, she would walk. 

Her story became moot after the former student killed herself and the cops decided to pin it on her. Overall, it was really better for Bedelia. A trial or police investigation, no matter what the outcome could have affected her plans for medical school. If this was to happen again, she would need to be more careful.


	2. Twenty-five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bedelia really needed to learn how to control herself.

The first time Bedelia Du Maurier witnessed a murder, she was twenty-five. While still in residency, she joined Dr. Sullivan’s service for her general surgery rotation.

Dr. Sullivan proved to almost everyone that the death was inevitable; a danger of preforming surgery of someone of a certain age, but Bedelia saw the truth. Dr. Sullivan was a skilled surgeon, and while the course of events would have led to a similar outcome with her colleagues, Sullivan had the ability to save Mrs. Hanaway, just not the will.

Bedelia mused if Mrs. Hanaway bares resemblance to Sullivan’s mother. Maybe she was rude to Dr. Sullivan during her pre-op exam. Bedelia assumed there had to be something akin to a reason for the promising surgeon to risk an almost perfect record. Maybe Dr. Sullivan got off on the power, a desire not unknown to Bedelia. All of a sudden Dr. Sullivan became significantly more interesting.

As the day moved on, Bedelia followed Sullivan into the room of Hanaway’s grieving family. She listened silently as the older surgeon took the family through the surgery and offered an apology voided of any real concern. Bedelia wondered if the hysterical family noticed.

Before leaving, Sullivan tasked Bedelia with helping the family finalize miscellaneous paperwork and any final request. Bedelia worked quickly, offering the society appropriate support when needed. As she left the room, she put on her more naïve face before turning the Mrs. Hanaway’s eldest son.

“I am deeply sorry for your loss. Dr. Sullivan is usually such a great doctor; I hope her late night out played no part in this.” Then with the most terrified face she could managed, “Oh, please don’t tell her I said anything, she could have me fired.” Bedelia couldn’t hide her smirk as she left the room.

It took Sullivan an hour longer than expected to confront her. Bedelia was waiting for a date at the bar down the street from the hospital when Dr. Sullivan appeared by her side, dressed impeccably in a wool pencil skirt, fitted blouse, and leather pumps.

“Dr. Du Maurier, may I have a word?” Bedelia turned slowly in her seat, keeping perfect posture and never letting go of her Rioja.

“Dr. Sullivan, what a pleasant surprise,” Bedelia started, her face cold and tight. “How can I help you this evening?”

Dr. Sullivan quietly suggested they go somewhere more private. Bedelia weighted her options. She didn’t believe she was in real danger by following the surgeon, but her date was due in ten minutes and she hated being rude.

“Why of course,” she said after a long moment. “Let me leave a note with the bartender. Where would you like to go?”

“My apartment is next door, unless you would rather walk back to the hospital.”

Bedelia turned to leave word with the bartender before grabbing her jacket.

“Your apartment will do. I assume it must be very important.”

They walked the short trip in silence; Bedelia feigning ignorance to her superiors temper.  

As the door closed behind Bedelia, Sullivan offered her a glass of whiskey. Never one to turn down a drink, Bedelia thanked her as she carefully shed her coat. The new look in her superior's eye told Bedelia she might have overestimated her chances of escaping this encounter unscathed.

“What you did today was very foolish, Bedelia.”

Bedelia took a long drink of the aged whiskey before responding. “I wonder how you would describe your actions today, Dr. Sullivan.”

Bedelia watched the older woman, carefully keeping her distance as Sullivan outwardly debated her next words. Bedelia hopes Sullivan knows she knows.

“Listen here,” her voice was quiet and menacing. “I don’t care what you _think_ happened in that OR, you do not talk to a patient like that. You could have cost me my job.”

Bedelia smiled, taking a slow, long sip from her tumbler. Did the family really spoil her fun and out her?

“And what exactly did I do wrong, Dr. Sullivan?”

She knew she was playing with fire, but she really could not help herself. Sullivan closed the space between them in two seamless steps.

“Look, they didn’t name you, but I am not stupid.”

Bedelia couldn’t help but smile as Sullivan revealed her hand. Without them naming her, there was very little Sullivan could do.

“What exactly were you hoping to succeed by that little stunt?”

Another long sip before her shoulders shrugged.

“I was curious what you would do.”

The rage in Sullivan’s eyes flickered before her cold face returned.

“You are playing a dangerous game Bedelia. You are not near as clever as you think you are.”

A smile played on Bedelia’s lips but she stayed silent, refusing to take the bait.

“I’m curious Bedelia,” Sullivan started, moving her hand to push a loose hair behind Bedelia’s ear. “If you are so sure on what you saw, why not report me?” Sullivan’s voice changed from threatening to almost flirting but Bedelia was under no delusion that would play in her favor.

“Were you hoping I would get fired? Did you have a guilty conscious for not stopping me?”

“You alone are responsible for you actions, Dr. Sullivan. I was merely interested to see if you felt guilt about it.”

Sullivan froze, not in fear, instead as if she was debating her next move.

“I’m interested in what you have concluded Dr. Du Maurier,” her hand still hovering near Bedelia’s neck.

“I’m doubting you felt anything near remorse. You are so used to everyone underestimating you, I wonder how many other mistakes were anything but.”

Bedelia took a controlled breath as Dr. Sullivan’s hand moved to her neck. She willed her eyes to stay calm as she watched Sullivan finish her drink and set the tumbler on a nearby table. She was playing with fire, but she would be lying if she said this didn’t excite her.

“Why would I, a respected surgeon that has to fight ten times as hard to be taken seriously, risk so much?” The hand on her neck tightened ever so slightly as the older woman pushed Bedelia up against the wall.

“I am beginning to wonder in you can help yourself, Dr. Sullivan.” Bedelia’s voice didn’t betray her as she challenged Sullivan.

“If I am so lost to my primal desires, what’s to stop me from acting on them now _Bedelia?”_

The was Sullivan lingered on her name sent chills down her legs.

“Absolutely nothing.” The words were barely a whisper but Sullivan, only inches away, could feel them on her lips.

Bedelia, trapped under the older woman, moved her hands carefully to set down her almost empty tumbler. As the glass hit the wood, Dr. Sullivan’s lips moved to Bedelia’s. Passion and desire mixed with the fear for an intoxicating kiss and without hesitating, Bedelia moved her hand to the hem of Dr. Sullivan’s skirt. Her fingers traced their way up her thigh. Expertly moving past the doctor’s undergarments, Bedelia moved her fingers with the utmost control, teasing with light touches. She could feel Sullivan moan through their kiss. Bedelia continued for exactly ten more seconds before abruptly removing her hands and pulling back from their kiss.  Taking advantage of Dr. Sullivan’s comprised position, Bedelia pushed her way free.

“I have a gentleman waiting for me down at the bar. It would be rude to delay him any longer.”

Dr. Sullivan met her frosty eyes as she straighten her skirt.

“Indeed.”

As Bedelia grasped the door knob with her perfectly manicured hands, Dr. Sullivan said in a quiet but threatening voice, “You interfere again, Dr. Du Maurier, and I do not believe you will enjoy the consequences.”

Bedelia did not have any doubts in the seriousness behind her threat. She really needed to learn how to control herself.

 

 

 


	3. Twenty-nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bedelia learns to be more proactive in her planning.

The first time Bedelia Du Maurier was attacked by a patient, she was twenty-nine. She had just accepted a job with her uncle’s clinic in Baltimore and was seeing a limited number of patients from her uncle’s late partner.

Mark Jacobson was one of those first patients. He was loud, misogynistic and his mild depression was unimaginative at best. While an overall attractive man, he was one of the few patients Bedelia unwavering detested.

After a month of biweekly sessions, Mr. Jacobson started crossing Bedelia’s well defined boundaries. It started innocently enough, with fresh pastries from his family’s bakery. Scones had long been one of Bedelia’s weaknesses, so the gifts were accepted with little hesitation.

The favors became increasing more personal despite well-mannered talks with Mr. Jacobson. Bedelia tried to bring the behavior to her uncle’s attention for some form of guidance.

“If you cannot handle a few harmless gifts, maybe this isn’t the right field for you, Bedelia. Maybe try less flirting and more focus on the medicine.”

Bedelia refused to answer, knowing from past experience her temper did not fare well against her uncle’s back hand.

 

 

During their next session, Mr. Jacobson brought a beautiful wrapped gift from one of Bedelia’s favorite shops. She refused the gift as sternly as manners would allow and managed to continue the session as if the rejection never happened. When Mr. Jacobson rose to leave, he casually left the box beside her couch. It wasn’t until Bedelia gathered her things to leave for the day did she even noticed the dark blue and gold box.

Not wanting to leave it in her office for her uncle to find, she discreetly packed it into her belongings and headed home.

When Bedelia finally made it to her apartment, she set her bag on her table and headed to the wet bar for a glass of wine. Selecting a Sauvignon blanc she had chilling, she effortlessly opened the bottle and filled the crystal glass.

As she took a long sip, she eyed the forbidden package sitting next to her purse. Curiosity had long been her greatest weakness, so it didn’t take long before she had the box in her lap, slowly slipping of the beautiful golden ribbon.

While lingerie was as predictable as Mr. Jacobson, this particular set was breathtaking. As she held it up to inspect the garment, a hand written note fell near her pumps.

 

_My dearest Bedelia,_

_These last months have been extraordinary. I hope you appreciate this set. It will be significantly more flattering than that green set._

 

Bedelia smirked.

Stalking.

Had he seen her through her window, or had he been I her apartment? Bedelia was more annoyed than surprised. She could handle herself against the middle age pervert.

Without moving getting up, she finished her wine and weighted her options.

She could call the cops now or wait for the inevitable escalation. Self-defense would be undeniable if she could control herself this time. The thought of getting a chance to reach that high again brought shivers down her legs.

Freshening up quickly, she headed down a local bar to find someone to help her celebrate her newly devised plans.

 

 

Bedelia spent the following sessions with Mr. Jacobson baiting him and feigning ignorance to his intensifying behavior. She flirted and left the top button on her blouse agape. She would prefer he try something in her office where she was more prepared, plus she hated the idea of strangers in her apartment.

After two weeks, Bedelia was beginning to doubt the man had it in him to attack her. She knew the violent streak was there, she just wasn’t sure returning his advances were the way to get it out.

It wasn’t until he came into her office already angered that she saw her opportunity. 

“Do you sleep around, Dr. Du Maurier?” His voice is manic and threatening but Bedelia remained cool.

“We are not here about me.” Bedelia starts, taking a seat near her desk.

“Are you kidding? It is always about you! I give you a gift and then you wear it for some other man!” His voice rises and Bedelia notes how he yet to sit down. She momentarily ponders correcting him on the sex of her partner, but is not certain that information will play in her favor.

“Does it anger you that I did not share the gift with you?” Bedelia stays almost still as she speaks, looking up at him with her cold gray eyes.

Mr. Jacobson takes a step closer and lowers his voice. “That wasn’t for you to share. I thought we had something, Bedelia. But you just had to ruin it, didn’t you?”

Bedelia debates her next move. She has a gun in her desk, but from her current position it was out of reach. She couldn’t stand to try and size up her patient, not that her size came close to matching his over six foot frame. She internally questions her decision to not keep a weapon within reach, criticizing her earlier rationalization that he could use it against her.

“Mr. Jacobson, why don’t you sit down and we can discuss this like adults.”

A smile crept across his face as he took a few steps back. Bedelia took this opportunity to stand and make her way to her desk. As she neared her drawer, Mr. Jacobson was right behind her. He pushed her, hard, into her desk knocking the lamp her father gave her onto the ground to shatter beneath her heels.

As the larger man pressed her against the desk, he started yelling. He had her left wrist in his grasp, leaving bruises to help seal her defense. She reached for the drawer that held her gun, but was a little disheartened to realize it was blocked by her attacker’s body.

Thinking quickly, she moved to the shatter glass surrounding her. Finding a piece large enough was easy, and as she was about to sink it into his lower abdomen, her office door burst open.

“Get off of her now!” Her uncles voiced boomed throughout the room.

Bedelia felt the grip on her wrist tighten for just a moment before his weight on top of her disappeared and her hand was freed. She thought quickly before she turned to face her uncle. Tears wouldn’t help with her uncle, but she needed to appear at less annoyed and more startled.

“Mark, you are to stay away from my niece, do you understand? You will continue sessions with me until I can find you a suitable referral. If you so much as come near her again I will kill you myself, do you understand?”

Mr. Jacobson, still heated, nodded while glaring at Bedelia. Bedelia turned her head, focusing on straightening her now wrinkled skirt.

“As for you little missy, I thought you had this under control. I will talk to your father on how to proceed with your position here.” His voice was sharp and authoritative, leaving no room for question.

Bedelia nodded silently, she was sure this was nothing a long trip home couldn’t fix.

She watched as her uncle escorted Mr. Jacobson out of her office. Mindlessly, she started cleaning up the mess. She really should have planned for the extra noise better. Her recklessness cost her yet again.

As Bedelia kneeled down to sweep her broken lamp, her uncle’s secretary Mary Ann walked in the office.

“Dr. Du Maurier, are you okay?” Bedelia knew enough to know the older woman was indifferent to her answer.

“Of course.”

There was a moment of silences as Mary Ann watched Bedelia clean. “Your uncle had me cancel the rest of today’s appointments for you.”

Bedelia took a deep breath to control her anger.

“Then I will head home after I finish here.”

Half an hour later Bedelia’s office was void of any remanence of an attack minus the missing lamp. She gave her farewell to Mary Ann before returning to her apartment.

Today did not go quite as planned. If the opportunity arises again, she would need to be more proactive in the future.

 


	4. Thirty-one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bedelia has a problem with jealousy
> 
> TW: non-con

The first time Bedelia Du Maurier married, she was thirty-one. Johnathan Porter, a junior partner at her father’s firm, made an acceptable husband in the eyes of her family. He was handsome, almost devastating so and clever enough to keep wits with Bedelia.

Bedelia hadn’t exactly enjoyed their first meeting, a date arranged by her mother. She had assumed the young man was trying to use her to impress her father and there was little that pissed Bedelia off more than being a tool for someone else's gain. But as they talked, she realized he was as coerced into the date as she was. It wasn’t until after spending the night together did she start to consider a future together.

The sex was enjoyable and the company was entertaining. Settling down was not in the life Bedelia had pictured for herself, but marriage to a man like him would add benefits and connections she couldn’t deny.

They were engaged within six months, married within a year. His father bought them a town-home in the middle of town, perfect for hosting guest. One weekend a month they filled their home with food, wine, and dozens of their closest friends. Their parties quickly became talk of the town, drawing some of the city’s most exclusive crowds.

Bedelia did not particularly relish playing the part of hostess. She was bored easily by the mindless gossip, but found solace in her husband’s cousin Samantha. Samantha had just graduated Harvard and was working for the mayor. They would talk endlessly about politics, food, and music.

Most evenings, Johnathan would interrupt Samantha and her conversation to inform them he would need to step out to talk shop with Mr. Jenson from his office.

Bedelia was not naïve to the true nature of their relationship, she had known for some time he enjoyed the company of other men. She liked to pretend jealousy was beneath her, but the connections and money his family brought her were the real reason she kept her lips sealed.  

Besides, it was not like Bedelia was completely faithful to her husband. Pettiness accounted for a number of encounters within Johnathan’s office while he was away on business with Jenson.  Her real sights were on Samantha. She like Samantha, she was beautiful, witty, and off-limits. The Porters were fiercely loyal to their family, a betrayal like that would hurt Johnathan, but he would be bound to silence in fear of his own secret being exposed.

Seducing Samantha was easy. Long touches while they talked, light kisses to say goodbye. Bedelia giggled as she led Samantha out on the makeshift dance floor, holding Samantha tight as the waltz around the room.

The perfect opportunity arose when Johnathan called to let her know he would be working late with Jenson on their usual date night.

“Don’t make me eat alone!” she begged, calling Samantha to join her for the evening.

They shared a bottle of wine with their cavatelli. They laughed and flirted over their panna cotta. And when they finished their coffee, they returned to Bedelia’s town-home to open another bottle of wine.

In the taxi home, Samantha held Bedelia’s hand. Bedelia gave a soft smile, not wanting to look too eager and scare her away.

Bedelia pulled a rosé from the fridge, craving something sweet. As she worked methodically to open the bottle, Samantha moved behind her to find glasses. Bedelia could feel Samantha’s small fingers tracing her arm as she worked. She took a deep breath as Samantha’s other hand moved to her waist. As soon as the cork popped, Bedelia turned to face Samantha. She is not sure who started the kiss, but it was Samantha who pushed her against the counter, hands gripping her arms as the kiss deepened. Bedelia desperately wanted to reach under Samantha’s skirt, feel the younger woman squirm beneath her, but Samantha held tightly onto her arms.

Bedelia heard the front door open, and for a short moment, felt guilty. But Samantha was still on top of her, and there was little she could do to move her quietly. So instead, Bedelia deepen the kiss pushed herself against the counter to give Samantha more access.

Johnathan’s briefcase clambered against the tile, bringing Samantha back to reality. Bedelia suppressed a smirk as Samantha let go of her arms and tried to gracefully get back on two feet. Bedelia’s back was to the kitchen door, but looking at Samantha’s face confirmed Johnathan saw enough.

“You need to leave Samantha.” Johnathan’s voice was dark and low and for the first time in their marriage Bedelia worried she read him wrong. Samantha was quick to straighten her skirt and scamper out of the town-home, not even giving Bedelia a second look.

“Is this how you get back at me for missing dinner, screwing my cousin in our kitchen?” Johnathan moved beside Bedelia as he kept his voice low.

“If this is vengeance for a skipped meal, I wonder what you think I would do for every time you slept with Jensen.”

The slap was hard, knocking Bedelia to the ground before she had a moment to react. She watched him carefully, letting him fight himself before she reentered his line of sight. She could see him go back in forth between denying it, apologizing, and hitting something. He backed up slowly, still silent. Bedelia took this as an opportunity to stand.

As the stood in silence, Bedelia finally had enough, and decided to pour herself that glass of rosé. As she reached for the glass, his large hands roughly grabbed her arms and slammed them into the counter.

“You have no idea what you are talking about. If you even think about spreading that... that... propaganda, I will kill you.”

Bedelia took a deep breath, trying to bite her tongue. She felt his grip tighten as he pushed her up on the counter, her full bottle of wine spilling over and shattering against the tile.

“I. Am. Not. Gay.”

Bedelia stay silent, her face hard as stone as he flipped her around and pushed up her dress. She focused on her anger and hatred as he pushed himself inside her. He was rough and left bruises scattering her hip and arms. As he finished, Bedelia could feel his tears against her neck.

Finally he loosened his grip and moved back. He started to apologize through his tears.

“You are pathetic and everyone is going to know it.” Johnathan’s faced moved to pure terror as he stared at his wife. Bedelia kept her face hard, refusing to show emotion.

Johnathan all but ran out of the house, grabbing his keys. Bedelia waited until the she heard the car pull away before she let herself breathe. She fixed her dress and examined her body for damage. As she cleaned the shattered bottle of wine, she refused to cry. She grabbed a bottle of Johnathan’s expensive bourbon, along with a crystal tumbler and drank her feelings in their bedroom.

They divorced quickly and quietly after that night. In exchanged for Bedelia’s sealed lips, she was on the receiving end of a rather generous settlement. She used part of the money to build a house outside of town, far away from the party life of Baltimore. It wasn’t quite the ending she had in mind for her marriage. In the future, she was going to have to reign in her jealous nature.


	5. Thirty-Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At thirty six Bedelia learns she will need to control herself around Hannibal

The first time Bedelia du Maurier met Hannibal Lector, she was thirty-six. While attending a gala for the Baltimore Symphony her friend Patrick almost fell over himself to introduce the pair. Offering a tight smile and cold greeting, Bedelia spent no time sizing up the stranger. He returned a smile with a slight raise of his glass and a chill ran down Bedelia’s back. She could physically feel herself fight her instinct to flee while the pulse between her legs made her muse about finding an empty room and having her way with the handsome man.

Instead Bedelia listened as Patrick listed off the surgeons many accomplishments. She quietly mused if one of those endeavors had included bedding Patrick. A smile grew on her face as her mind pictured the doctor pinning down Patrick and taking him with an almost animalistic hunger.

“Bedelia.”

She recoiled as she heard her name roll off Hannibal’s lips.

“It is doctor, thank you.” The correction was cold and Bedelia offered no smile to soften the statement.

Anger flashed through the surgeon’s eyes and she almost swore she heard a growl, but it was quickly covered by an apologetic smile and nod. She assumed he was not used to be corrected so publicly. She pondered if that anger would have passed as quickly if they were alone.

Not trusting herself near this stranger any longer, Bedelia quietly excused herself to top off her wine.

 

As the night played on, Bedelia started to realize she had drank more than appropriate for such an event. She silently cursed Dr. Stantis for continuing to refill her glass in hopes to lower her ambitions. Now that he was finally occupied by a lawyer half his age, she used this time to look for Patrick so she could find her valet ticket.

She found Patrick talking to a small group by the coat check in. She waited patiently for the conversation to die down before she interrupted. As she stood she could feel her world wobble on her 4 inch heels. She closed her eyes to steady the world around her.

“Bedelia, are you okay?” The concern from her old friend was genuine, but still teasing. She smiled and asked him quietly for her ticket.

“You are not driving home.”

“I know, I just need to get my overnight bag so I can check into the hotel across the street.” Patrick smiled and found her ticket in his coat pocket. He offered to walk her but before she could decline a familiar voice spoke up.

“Allow me. I am staying there tonight as well and long past ready to call it a night.” Bedelia’s eyes landed on the beautiful surgeon. Somehow he had become even more attractive as the night grew on. She cursed Stantis yet again as she tried to convince herself not to invite the dangerous man into her room.

With her mind occupied, she forgot to come up with a reason to travel the short distance solo before he laid a single hand on the small of her back and led her out of the hall. She imagined she did not look dissimilar to a sheep heading to the slaughterhouse.

“I am truly sorry if I offended you earlier this evening,” Dr. Lector said as the night air hit the pair. A shiver ran through Bedelia’s arm and she wondered if it was the cold or from the man beside her.

Instead of responding, she handed the ticket to the valet and told him to retrieve the bag from her trunk. The young man smiled and ran off quickly.

Bedelia thought of starting small talk with her escort, but her intoxicated mind stayed focused on man’s neck, images going between her lips tasting him and her hands guiding a knife along jugular. Both brought a smile to her face.

He peered down at her as if he knew what she was thinking. He was probably only half right she mused, but still the thought caused her to blush before she spoke.

“I don’t know about you, but I fancy a nightcap before I retire this evening. Would you care to join me?” She looked up at him, almost challenging him to say no.

“There is nothing I would love more.”  

After the valet returned with her bag they made their way across the street. Bedelia quickly checked in and left her bag with the bellhop to drop off in her room before they moved to the hotel’s bar.

Bedelia led them to the bar where they found a pair of empty stools. She ordered a whiskey straight for herself and waited for Hannibal to order. Without hesitating she told the bartender to put it on her room before looking over at the surgeon.

“Did you enjoy the gala?” The question was appropriate and Bedelia all but congratulated herself on it.

“I did,” he said with a nod of his head before taking a sip of his wine. She could feel his eyes on her and wondered if they were both past the coy phase on how tonight was going to end. She let a hand slip down to her knees and the whiskey gave her the encouragement to move it over to his. She could tell he was used to control and there was nothing more she wanted than to completely take that away from him.

Her pinky lightly grazed the top of his pants as a smile played on her lips. The anger flashed back in his eyes.

“We are in public Dr. Du Maurier.” The words were harsh and Bedelia was sure he meant to leave no room for disagreements.

“Fine, then leave. Or stay and finish the drink, and then join me upstairs. I assure you no one will notice as long as _you_ control yourself.” Bedelia’s words came off flirty but she was sure he would take them as yet another challenge.

She met his eyes as she moved her entire perfectly manicured hand around the top of his trouser. She let two play with the waistline slowly as she took another drink. She watched carefully as he decided his next move. When she was finally satisfied he would stay, she started circling her fingers, carefully playing with his tip.

He went to move his hands to return the favor, but her free hand stopped him. The anger returned in his eyes and for a moment she worried he might snap her neck right there. With that thought a soft, barely audible moan slipped through her lips. Her eyes tested his while her right hand could feel him becoming harder.

She wondered how high his control level really was. He obviously prided himself on it, but so did many men that often folded under her like a cloth. She wondered at what point he would try to join in again, or let out a moan of his own. Instead he grabs his wine glass and takes a small sip.

“So Patrick tells me you are a psychiatrist.” His voice stays level as he starts small talk.

“I am.” Her words are cold but betray the fact she has already drank well past her limit.

“He also told me you were attacked by a patient a few years ago.” He stops as if to judge her response. When he gets none, he continues, “That must have been horrifying.”

Bedelia just smiles, almost amused by his attempts to retake control. No, she would not fall for his pathetic attempts. She is however ready for more release. Looking him straight in the eye she finishes her whiskey and stands up from her stool.

Her world keeps spinning, but she refuses to let it show. Instead she walks quickly towards the elevators, her heels clicking on the marble floors.

The ride in the elevator is quiet. Bedelia stands almost directly in front of Hannibal to offer him some privacy to the problem she caused, but her left hand stays continues the teasing from the bar.

The elevator dings and they make their way down the hall to her room. She opens the door and moves in the room slowly. As she is about to sit down to take off her heels she feels a strong hand wrap around her slender wrist. He quickly has her pinned to the wall as a growl slips from his lips.

“That was not nice _Bedelia_.”

Bedelia just smirked and moved her one free hand to the front of his pants. “You seemed to enjoy it.”

His jacket comes off without his grip loosening and she could feel her desire pulsing through her body.

He kissed her as if to claim her which she pulled away from. His grip loosened just enough for Bedelia to start working on getting his pants off. Within seconds his gray trousers pooled around his ankles and Bedelia had moved to her knees, sitting back on her heels.

She had him in her mouth before he could protest and used her skills to assure she would be the one in charge this evening. She could feel him come apart above her as he slowly moved himself to the edge of the bed.

From there he worked on the back of her dress, slowly sliding the material down her body as he lift her up. He moved her to the bed and crawled on top of her. She slowly started unbuttoning his shirt and let out another, louder moan as he pressed down on her and threw the tuxedo shirt and undershirt across the room. Her mind was overtaken by the desire for a moment.

He must have sensed her weakness as he moved down her body and worked to part her legs. Refusing to let this dangerous man see her in such a compromising position, Bedelia contorted her body so she was sitting up and eye level with the devilishly handsome surgeon.

They stayed like that for a moment, challenging each other, both too proud to back down. Bedelia struck first, her hands on his back, her tongue down his throat. She felt him lift her up and quickly moved her legs to straddle him before he carefully placed her down of his manhood.

She tried to push him on his back but he was much stronger and just a determined. Instead he helped her pump up and down, moving her small body with easy.

Bedelia could feel herself get close, but he look in her partner’s eyes said he was closer. The hunger she imagined earlier was almost tenfold, and in the moment he pushed her roughly down below him. She struggled to get back up, though never stopped moving her hips along with his own. Her fight was useless against the larger man, and as almost to prove it to her, he grasped her wrist in one hand and pinned them over her head.

There was a part of her that wanted to stop fighting and just give up control. Her pride was holding but dying out quickly. As she swarmed beneath him, she felt his teeth on her neck. For a moment she thought he would bite straight through her thin throat.

The look in his eyes told Bedelia Hannibal wanted her to come first. Her pride told her that wouldn’t happen, but she honestly wasn’t sure how much she could last.

With a smirk on his face, Hannibal used his free hand to expertly rub his clit as he pounded in and out of her.

Bedelia couldn’t help herself anymore, and she felt her legs shake. She came loudly, fighting it the entire time, but before she could finish she felt Hannibal release himself in her. Her body relaxed until she realized he still had her hands pinned down with no indication of letting her go.

She looked up in his eyes and saw a hunger she couldn’t quite place. Her instincts told her to fight him, but she had already tried and knew the effort was futile.

Instead she remained calm, testing her legs to see if she could do any damage from her position. As if reading her mind, Hannibal shifted positions to lock her legs under him.

“I would like to taste you Bedelia. I will let you free if _you_ can learn to control yourself,” he said with a growl. In response Bedelia spat in his face, daring him to try.

The anger in his eyes did not flash through this time, instead it almost narrowed in on Bedelia as he pushed her further into the bed before using his free hand to reach for her panty hose discarded earlier. With a quick precision he knotted the hosiery around her tiny wrist and attached it to the top of the bed frame.

Then, with firm grips on her legs he moved down and positioned himself between her legs. His tongue moved with expertise and within seconds Bedelia was moving her hips along with Hannibal’s pace. Moans escaped her lips as he bit her lightly. And for the second time that night she let the ecstasy overtake her before drifting off in blissful sleep.

 

When Bedelia awoke the next morning her hotel room was empty. She was pleasantly surprised her late night guest did not overstay his welcome. As her body adjusted to the morning, she cursed Hannibal while rubbing her wrist. While she got in a few good punches, it was him that won the fight. If Bedelia was going to see him again, she was going to need to be in better control of herself.

 


End file.
